


band, did you mean kim seungmin oggling sessions

by crustybaguettes



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, But here it is, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, band au, but i tried, i was just basing everything off of my own aus school band experiences, idk what band is like in korea, im a saxophone playing and my clarinet skills are a bit questionable, more of a concert band than a marching band tho, my conductor's nice tho lol, or if they even have it, they both play the clarinet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-08-22 01:17:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16587968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crustybaguettes/pseuds/crustybaguettes
Summary: Hyunjin has never been very happy; other than his skateboarding sessions (that were becoming few and far between) and brief conversations with Seungmin as they left the band room one a week, he didn't find much joy in the world.From parents with overly high expectations to picky band conductors, Hyunjin's pressure induced cracks are starting to widen, and will they eventually crumble and break completely, or will someone help patch them up again?sorry that was a shit summary it's just something I wanted to write because im a band nerd





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cornchippo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornchippo/gifts).



> not proof read, might edit later might not lol

A cacophony of scales filled the room, carpeted walls absorbing most of the sound but still trapping it in, a chorus of different instruments jumbled together. Hyunjin ran his scales, C major up, C major down, C# major up, C# major down, D major up, D major down, D# major up…

            “Alright everyone, settle down, I want to start with Pictures At An Exhibition, bar 13.”

            The conductor’s baton tapped out a tempo against her stand and Hyunjin felt his foot instinctively tap along to keep time.

            “Hey, didn’t Ms Kim say to stop doing that, you know we get points taken off at competitions if the adjudicator sees.” Seungmin (Hyunjin’s crush that he, in the words of Aubrey from pitch perfect, ‘had a musical boner for’) whispered harshly, the section leader not wanting to put up with another rant from Ms Kim about proper etiquette and all the 996 ways to get 10 points taken off at an eisteddfod. The boy had always seemed a tad highly strung, but considering the regional championships nearing, Hyunjin could sense the waves of stress radiating off him. The clarinet section in their school band was decent at best, and as the two most experienced players in the section, they normally took the brunt of their conductor’s anger.

            “And 1, 2, 3.” The baton made a downwards motion as the piece began, and in any other circumstances Hyunjin would probably be enjoying himself. Despite the devastating averageness of the clarinet section, the rest of the band wasn’t too bad, placing their school in the top 3 for their province. Not seeming to take these achievements into account, Ms Kim was going as hard on them as ever, her saxophonist history forgetting that it’s much harder to play loudly on a clarinet than it is to honk out a triple forte on the saxophone.

            “Kim, what’s that bar marked as?” She asked while cutting off the band, her viper-like tone shooting directly at Seungmin.

            “Um…uh it’s…” he seemed to be struggling to find the bar being discussed, eyes scanning over the page in a panic and thumb frantically pressing and releasing the register key.

            “Forte.” Hyunjin leant over slightly to whisper, all too aware of the 50-something eyes trained on their section.

            “Forte, Miss.” Seungmin shot Hyunjin a small grateful glance before braving the gaze of Ms Kim, her eyes glaring daggers at the first clarinet.

            “And would you say you were playing forte, Kim?”

            “Um, not really Miss, but that note’s really hard to play lou-”

            “Kim, I don’t care if you chip a tooth if it means that you play what’s written on the page, understood?”

            “Yes Miss.” The 7 clarinets mumbled out in support of Seungmin, eyes trained at the base of their music stands, not wanting to aggravate the situation further.

            “Everyone, I know you’re tired, but I honestly couldn’t care less. The championships are in less than a week, so I don’t have the time to be stopping every 5 bars and remind you of what’s already written on the page. Now again from bar 13. And 1, 2, 3…”

            Rehearsal continued on for another hour in the same manner, stress radiating off the conductor in waves for some unknown reason; Hyunjin thought they sounded good (but then again, he hadn’t competed in international band competitions and conducted world renowned ensembles for 40 years, so what would he know right?). As his eyes were starting to droop downwards, despite the trumpets went over their soli for the umpteenth time, the clock finally ticked from 4:59 to 5:00 and the conductor finally ended the rehearsal.

            “Alright everyone, good rehearsal, remember our sectionals are next week so everyone needs to be practicing for 20 minutes a day. Can everyone help pack up before you leave please?”

            Hyunjin disconnected his mouthpiece from the barrel, an unpleasant popping sound accompanied by the signature trail of spit that was hastily wiped off and onto his pant leg. After clicking the latches shut, he stashed his clarinet case into the corner next to Seungmin’s and began picking up the chairs to carry into stack at the back of the room. At the end of every rehearsal, the hardest part was probably having to overhear (due to the miniscule space allotted for the band room) the section leaders being given their debrief from Ms Kim (see also; harsh criticising). Hard, because no one, not even Hyunjin’s worst enemies, deserved ‘constructive criticism’ from Ms Kim. Unbearable, because watching Seungmin’s face get more and more crumpled with every insult thrown towards the group was like watching someone kick a puppy. Unbearable.

            The circle of 7 section leaders broke apart, their crest fallen facing retreating back to the haphazardly placed instruments around the edges of the empty band room, unspoken assurances being thrown in their directions. Despite their weird not-really-friends-but-more-than-acquaintances relationship (that he would like to maybe one day turn into a not-really-friends-but-more-boyfriends relationship), Hyunjin and Seungmin picked up their clarinets and headed out of the room together and soon split away into two different directions, Seungmin to walk home and Hyunjin to the subway.

            The ride home was always full of subtle stares, a school child with a too-small briefcase-looking thing wasn’t a normal sight for the general public, and Hyunjin became the fodder for people’s curious, sticky-beaking brains. His brain, however, was devouring the anxiety bubble surrounding the thought of his parents, more specifically their expectations.

            Hyunjin’s parents weren’t mean, well, they were, but they meant well, kind of. It was their expectations of their musically inclined son (that had very little to do with music) that felt like little knives of disappointment stabbing into his self-esteem. The fact that he wasn’t the music captain, or even section leader made it worse; if their son couldn’t do what they wanted, he had to be the best at what he wanted, and at the moment Hyunjin wasn’t either of those things. The graded maths test sitting in his backpack with a large, red 59% stamped on it was weighing him down like a cinderblock strapped to his shoulders. Not good at school, not good enough in music, not a good son, he’d heard it all from his parents.

            The fact he was an only child didn’t help the situation. All his academically motivated parents wanted was a child who was the best. That’s all. For them it wasn’t much to ask. For Hyunjin, sometimes the pressure of having to make his parents proud, the pressure that was designed to be carried by at least 2 others, was overwhelming to the point where he felt like his best would only be scratching the surface of his parents’ plans for him.

            His school shoes hit the pavement as he walked through the maze like roads of his neighbourhood, the compacted windows sitting high on the house walls. A soft orange hue fell over his face, and for the first time that afternoon he didn’t feel so stressed. The sound of someone practicing piano drifted over on the wind and gave Hyunjin the feeling that he was in a movie, one where everything was okay, he had a caring family who loved him, a boyfriend who held his hand on the way to school and reminded him to take care of himself, a world that would never be his reality.

            Not only would he never escape the crushing reality of his inadequateness, but his father would never allow a relationship under his roof, let alone a _homosexual_ one. In his dad’s eyes, a wife was like a trophy, something you receive as a prize once you’ve succeeded in life. In his dad’s eyes, a man and a man together was something that should be seen at a golf course or in a conference meeting, but never in love. In his dad’s eyes, Hyunjin wasn’t good enough, so why poke the flame when you could just avoid it all together?

            His key turned in the door, the clicking sound resounding through the dark, empty hallway and a puff of air escaped Hyunjin’s mouth in relief; no one was home. He slid off his school shoes and padded up the stairs, a soft thumping that made him feel like a little kid again. Hyunjin never knew why, but socks (especially thick ones) always gave him a soft feeling when he wore them around the house, the sensation of plopping or sliding his fabric-covered feet along the floor so much more appealing than his bare soles coming into contact with the cold floor boards.

            He flopped onto the bed with a sigh and slight arm flail and accepted the aftershocks from the wobbling mattress, the feeling giving him the image of floating on a boat. A boat in the middle of the ocean, away from everything and everyone. Just him and his mind. On second thoughts, Hyunjin couldn’t think of anywhere more like his own personal hell than his mind, just a ball of stress vibrating and building. His clarinet case was slowly dropped from his hand onto the floor, wincing after the latches hit the floor with a resounding thud.

            Speaking of clarinets, the seat placement auditions were in 3 weeks and Hyunjin hadn’t practiced anything other than band music for so long that the voice inside his head spoke in march tempo. He knew that if the weight of schoolwork was to get any lighter, the one thing he had to do well was music, and without that section leader title he wasn’t getting anywhere. Propelled by stress, he sat up, opened his clarinet case and retrieved a music book gathering dust on his shelf. After deciding on a song, Hyunjin began the slow and painful process of sight-reading a piece with more ledger lines than beats and more semi-quavers than notes in a scale. Until his fingers were cramping and his mouth was imprinted with the shape of the reed, and his front door slammed shut announcing the arrival of his mother, he practiced. The rhythm played over and over in his head as he closed his eyes to sleep, and with a startling and stressful thought he realised that Seungmin would’ve probably been doing the same thing for several weeks already. His new found stress-induced motivation was running through his veins, and even if he couldn’t succeed, Hyunjin could damn-well try.

 

 

Hyunjin’s new daily routine went something along these lines: wake up, get dressed, brush teeth. Contemplate the necessity of physical appearance as he brushed his hair. Say goodbye to his parents as he headed out the door, slightly stale muesli bar in hand and smudged lipstick stain on his cheek from a mother’s farewell. Get to school, study, have lunch, study, trek up to the individual practice rooms on the other side of the school. Get the key to the rehearsal room from a music teacher (senior privilege). Practice, and study in the breaks between practicing. At 11, (or whenever his eyes began closing on their own accord) pack up and head home. 11:45, get home and sleep. Repeat. After 1 week of this routine, not only was he falling behind in his classwork, a (not so phenomenal) phenomenon whose extent shocked his teachers of even his worst subjects, but every time he closed his eyes all he could see was staves, rests, dotted crotchets and key signatures. It was exhausting. The only thing keeping him running was the thought that Seungmin could be doing the same, and copious amounts of coffee.

            One day, it was particularly rough for Hyunjin. He’d gotten a Korean exam back and had done especially, well, shit (even for him). When he’d called his mum to tell her, she simply told him that it wasn’t good enough and that the reason he was staying at school so late better be because he was studying. Despite knowing it was far from the truth, he assured her that he would improve and that it was the upcoming regional championships that were stressing him out.

            She hung up after that, leaving the championships lingering in the back of his mind, just another thing to add on top of his mountain of stress. He’d gotten back late the night before due to trackwork on the subway line, and was running on about 3 hours sleep, which was not a lot when trying to practice a grade 8 clarinet solo while also trying to study and do homework simultaneously for two different subjects, all at 10:19pm on a Tuesday night.

            After a particularly shit run of his audition piece (Hyunjin was finding that word more and more useful, shit grades, shit playing, shit life, shit person) it was all too much to carry, like a cat storing up his energy to pounce until it finally spring to life onto unsuspecting prey. Hyunjin felt like a small mouse, his body being engulfed by an evil, all-encompassing cat, fur woven with fear and cripplingly low self-esteem.

            Before he knew what he was doing, a string of profanities (mainly comprising of shit) left his mouth and tears were flowing down his face. He discarded his clarinet in next to his music stand and sat on the floor, legs crossed over one another and head in his hands. His quiet sniffles and soft sobs filled the room, a welcome change from the same song repeating over and over, never good enough, never perfect. When he closed his eyes he could see his parents standing there, disappointed looks painting their faces. When he opened them, a reminder of his inadequacy stared right back at him in the form of notes and rests.

            A quiet knock broke Hyunjin’s self-deprecating train of thought, the fear that a teacher or cleaner had come to scold him for his hands to wipe the tears off his face, despite his urge to curl up into a ball and sob. “Yes?” He croaked out, a small crack entering his voice at the end, almost releasing another wave of tears. The door swung open carefully to uncover the concerned, glasses-adorned face of Seungmin, a familiar yet not exactly welcome face at this point in Hyunjin’s day. His maybe small but still present crush was demanding attention at exactly the wrong time, Hyunjin’s aching and tired heart wanting nothing more than to curl up in the other boy’s arms and let his worries wash away.

            “Hey Hyunjin, it’s pretty late, practicing this much can’t be good for you, you know you’re more than prepared for the championships right?” Seungmin’s soft and sincere voice filling the space with a feeling one would compare to hugging your mum after a few weeks apart. Like home.

            Hyunjin made eye contact with the boy and soon regretted it, remembering the red and puffy eyes he would not have, not to mention the tear streaked face and snotty nose. What a beautiful sight. “Wow dude, have you been crying?” The younger boy came and sat in front of him, carefully avoiding the clarinet lying abandoned on the floor. “What’s wrong? Can I help with…” he paused to look at Hyunjin’s study notes scattered around the floor “Biology? I could help you study, it’s one of my best subjects.”

            Hyunjin let out a phlegmy laugh, punctuating his sentence with a sniffle. “Every subject is one of your best. I think I’m too far behind to rescue at this point. Plus I don’t even care about science.” His voice gave into the wave of sobs building in his throat and as soon as the last word left his lips the wave crashed down, his chest burning from the crying.

            Seungmin hugged him after a short moment of ‘this person I only talk to about crescendos and concert dates is sitting in front of me sobbing what the fuck’ and began to recall some basic phrases to tell someone whose tears are staining your geography textbook. “You’ll be okay, whatever it is you’ll get past it, it’ll be over soon, it’s not the end of the world, everything’s okay.” His fingers moved in circles up and down his spine, the relaxing movement reminding him of when he was younger and his friend would write syllables on his back and make him guess what they were.

            Slowly his tears eased from a heavy downpour to a sprinkle and he sat up from being folded into Seungmin like a fortune cookie. A sniffle was let out as if it was an invitation for Seungmin to ask about his…situation, and the invitation was accepted.

            “So, and you don’t have to tell me or anything, like it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, like we don’t really know each other, but um, what were you crying about?”

            “Well, it’s pretty dumb…oh my god this is so embarrassing.”

            “You don’t have to tell me-“

            “No,  I want to, I um…I’m just really stressed.”

            “Mood…sorry, do you wanna talk about it?”

            “Well, I’ve been practicing day in day out just for this stupid fucking seat placement audition, and because of that I’ve had no time to do homework or study, so my grades are dropping, and because my grades are dropping my parents are mad, but the whole reason I need to be first clarinet anyway is because I want my parents to be stop bugging me and be proud about at least one thing in my life and my grades are terrible and won’t ever get better, no matter how much I study, so I need to do well in music, but I can’t ever be the best like my parents need me to be because you’re just so fucking good at the clarinet and I’m so shit compared to you and you probably work so much harder than me anyways so I don’t really deserve it and the champions are so soon and that’s just another thing to add onto the top of all my school work and I just can’t handle it anymore Seungmin. Fuck, my parents are gonna kill me when they see my Korean exam, fuck!” By the end of his rant, Hyunjin was crying again, his ears of stress and anger coming out warm and fast, the cussing seeming to wake Seungmin out of the daze he had fallen into.

            “Hey, do you wanna know a secret?” Seungmin said, his tone seeming to glaze over everything that had just been said, Hyunjin knowing that he was listening the whole time.

            “Sure, what?” Hyunjin had a distraction from having a full blown breakdown and at this point, he would take what he could get.

            “Well, I can’t read music. Or, not very well at least. I don’t know why, but my brain just can’t comprehend all those lines on the page.” He loosely waved his hand in the direction of Hyunjin’s sheet music to emphasise his point, being incredibly blasé to the massive bombshell he just dropped onto Hyunjin’s head.

            “But, your sight reading’s so good, how can you not read music?”

            “Well, most of the time I can play by ear and figure out basic rhythms a few bars in, or if I know the song I can normally play it fairly decently. If I have zero idea, then I mainly just, well, you might be a bit annoyed, but I sort of just listen to you play it and then copy it.” Seungmin looked down and fiddled with his fingers, suddenly becoming meek due to Hyunjin’s questioning.

            “You must a fucking super human memory, damn Seungmin, I’m impressed.” Hyunjin’s tears had dried up, the knowledge that his competition had just as many insecurities as he did making him feel a little bit better about his situation.

            “I mean, it’s not that impressive, the only reason I have to is because I can’t learn the real way, sight reading in my exams is a shit show, to put it lightly.”

            “But exams don’t matter, the fact that you made it to section leader with no sheet music or rehearsal marks or _anything_ to rely on is amazing.”

“I guess? I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it that way. Ms Kim doesn’t know, and I have no intention of her finding out, which is how you know it’s probably not something to be proud of. “

            “Well, I personally believe that’s bullshit, and Ms Kim has a stick shoved so far up her ass I’d be surprised if it wasn’t affecting her hearing.” Hyunjin began to stand up and pack away his things, the motivation and will to live being restored by human company.

            “Do you always swear this much when you’re tired, or is this just a special occasion?” Seungmin gathered his things up as well, their mutual insecurity sharing making them infinitely closer than they were before.

            “A mixture of both I’d say.”

            They talked back and forth, the two having a surprising amount in common other than the clarinet despite having never spoken to each other properly before. It took Hyunjin 5 minutes of walking in the wrong direction to remember where he was going, his lack of awareness clear evidence of his pure exhaustion.

            “Oh, fuck I’m meant to be going the other way. Well, see you soon Seungmin.” As Hyunjin turned to head back  to the station, he felt something tug on his blazer sleeve.

            Seungmin’s worried eyes met his own, the street lights reflecting in his glasses. “You could come over to my house? It’s only 5 minutes’ walk from here and we have ramen.”

            “Well who could say no to that?” Hyunjin shot his parents a quick text letting them know that he’d be out, making sure to turn his phone onto aeroplane mode after it was sent through to avoid the onslaught of threats and insults that would interfere with the one-on-one time with his ‘possibly more than a crush now’ crush.

            They walked slowly through the streets of Seungmin’s neighbourhood, their tired bodies being weighed down by sleepiness. Once or twice Hyunjin thought he saw Seungmin looking at him, but then again, it wouldn’t have been the craziest thing  that he’d imagined about the other boy. Hyunjin broke the silence, a small and insignificant question sitting at the back of his brain like an itch that needed to be scratched.

            “So, why were you at school this late anyway? Like, you know why I was but…you know, what were you doing?” The two finally made eye contact and Seungmin stared inquisitively back at Hyunjin.

            “I was um, I was at tutoring? I don’t know, I thought you’d just assumed that’s where I was, most kids stay out pretty late for private lessons and stuff. I just came back to school to get something from my locker and I heard you playing. Don’t, don’t you get tutoring Hyunjin?”

            Hyunjin felt his heart start beating at the familiar question (one that could only be linked back to his family) was asked. “Um, well, no, my parents don’t really believe in that sort of stuff.” Seungmin looked at him quizzically, expecting a more rebellious/money related answer.

            “Well, both of them got through school pretty well, not top of their class, but up there, you know? Anyway, neither of them had tutoring because their families couldn’t afford it, and now that they can for me they don’t think it’s…necessary? I guess? I don’t really know their logic, but the last time I brought it up I was just told to study harder so, somehow I don’t think it’ll be happening any time soon.”

            Seungmin’s face turned from confused to frustrated, an angry counter-argument bubbling on his lips. “But, that’s just not how it works anymore. Like, it’s impossible to even understand half our school work, let alone be good at it without private stuff. Maybe it was when they were at school, but now it’s just not….it’s not fair for you Hyunjin!”

            Seungmin’s passion for Hyunjin’s education made his heart boil over in fondness, as odd as it may seem. No one had really cared about that kind of stuff before. Well, at least, not in the way that Hyunjin needed. He wondered if Seungmin used to struggle in school, and that’s why he was so intense about it, but before he could ask Seungmin turned left and walked up a pebble path in between two small patches of well-kept grass.

            “My parents aren’t home, so you don’t need to worry about any of that.” Hyunjin being Hyunjin, his mind quickly leapt to the most lewd and inappropriate thing he could think about, eyes boggling out like a fish, but quickly realised Seungmin meant things like talking quietly or being overly polite.

            They took their shoes off and walked/slid (the joy of socks on floor boards) over to the kitchen counter, Hyunjin dropping his bag directly next to Seungmin’s as if anywhere ese in the house would’ve been forbidden for him to alter. The odd things you do in someone else’s house. Seungmin, as if on autopilot, opened the cupboard door and reached for a packet of ramen, quickly remembering that there was two of them and picked up another one. He flicked that kettle on and went about his routine, gathering a pot, spoon, two bowls, two sets of chopsticks.

            The whole thing felt weirdly intimate to Hyunjin, like when you go to a zoo and see animals doing things you wouldn’t want to be seen doing by strangers. He felt like he was watching Seungmin through a glass window, the younger boy pottering around as if no one else was there. It was quite entrancing, actually.

            Well until Seungmin turned around and made direct eye contact with him, making Hyunjin’s shoulders jolt a little bit in fear. His tie undone, blazer discarded and glasses askew, Seungmin looked cute. Well, very cute, to put it lightly. Hyunjin didn’t even notice he was staring, eyes drifting in and out of blurriness like they do when you’re dead tired, until the other boy awkwardly cleared his throat, holding out a bowl of ramen and a pair of chopsticks.

            They sat down to eat, still in relative silence except for the slurping and chewing noises that Hyunjin found repulsive and relaxing at the same time. Like something that smells so bad you can’t stop smelling it. Suddenly, Seungmin let out a giggle. Hyunjin didn’t know why, maybe it was the thrill of not being around his parents, or the fact he was onto his 19th hour of consciousness in a row, but he started laughing too. Soon, both boys were the kind of laughs that make you cry, make your stomach hurt or make you feel like you’re going to vomit. It was pretty funky.

            The laugh’s died down and a question popped into Hyunjin’s brain, one that could possibly flip the whole situation on its head, but he wanted to know the answer, so he asked despite the possible consequences.

            “So, why aren’t your parents home?” Hyunjin instantly regretted his decision when Seungmin seemed to close into himself, fiddling with his chopsticks habitually.

            “Well, my mum’s away for work, she’s works for an insurance company based overseas, so she goes away a lot. My dad works as a bus and taxi driver, and he works the night shifts on the bus. My um, my mum earns a lot, but it’s usually only enough for the house, bills, food, clothes, you know, those kinds of things. My dad works the long hours so that he can pay for my tutoring, because, well, he didn’t have a very good upbringing and didn’t do too well in school, so he wants me to have a better chance than him. That’s why I uh, why I’m “good at everything”, I guess.” Seungmin accentuated the commonly whispered phrase with quotation marks, as if to say he didn’t believe it. Which was bull, because it was true. Well, it was in Hyunjin’s eyes anyway. “I try really hard, I study, I practice the clarinet, play baseball, I fucking…I work so hard, because I want my parents to know that their hard work mounted to _something_.”

            The two boys sat in silence, Seungmin staring at his ramen bowl, Hyunjin staring at Seungmin. The younger boy looked up, glassy eyes being protected by the soft gaze of Hyunjin, as if saying that it was okay to cry.

            Seungmin didn’t take the invitation, instead standing up to clear away the bowls. Hyunjin grabbed his before the other boy could, and began rinsing away the spicy remnants of their dinner. His thoughts wondered, comparing his life to Seungmin, comparing their parents, their grades, their motivation. He realised that to be motivated by love was much more powerful than to be motivated by fear, and maybe his parents could learn a thing or two from Seungmin’s. Their hands brushed together a few times, at first by accident and then on purpose, before Hyunjin have up on the hints and grabbed Seungmin’s hands in his own, the half washed metal chopsticks clattering into the sink.

            “Seungmin, it’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed, or ashamed, or angry or scared, because I know that your parents will love you no matter what, whether you become a baseball player or a musician or a lawyer or a bus driver, your parents will love you knowing that you did your best. It’s okay to blame yourself, and set expectations, but just know that you don’t need to, you have other people who are here. I’m here.” Their hands stayed linked along with their eye contact, a single tear running down Seungmin’s face, making Hyunjin wonder how the first clarinet kept it together when he was crumpled up and sobbing in his lap like a sad piece of origami.

            Before he could think about it anymore, or about how he wished he could give Seungmin all his happiness, even if it wasn’t a lot, he felt arms wrap around his torso and tears warm his shirt.

            ‘Seungmin’s crying, fuck what do I do?’ Hyunjin thought.  Seungmin let out a little giggle, breaking the stream of tears and making Hyunjin realise he’d done a bit more than just thought it.

            Seungmin re-emerged from the shoulder he’d been crying on and before Hyunjin even knew what he was doing, he kissed him. In hindsight, probably _not_ the best idea, but you know, heat of the moment and all that jazz. It wasn’t like he was trying to force his tongue down the other boy’s throat, just a peck, but he did suppose it was a bit uncalled for. The more Hyunjin thought about it, the worse what he had done became and Seungmin’s frozen state wasn’t heling matters.

            “Uh, um sorry, I don’t know why I did that, god, I’m so sorry, I’ll just go now, sorry.” Before Seungmin could voice any protest and/or agreement, Hyunjin had picked up his bag and clarinet, slipped on his shoes and bolted out the door, the adrenaline of kissing Seungmin fuelling him until he sat down on the subway, the repercussions of today finally sinking in. He didn’t want to go home, actually, he didn’t want to go anyway, he just wanted to scream and cry and hug someone all at once. The first new friend he’d had in years, and he just went and fucked it up like the idiot he is. A sentimental, common-sense-lacking, gay idiot.

            Scrolling through his contacts, he was reminded of the friends he did have before completely isolating himself with his clarinet. Contrary to popular belief, he did have friends, quite a few actually, just not at his school. One of his closest friends, a boy called Jisung, used to skateboard with him on Sundays before his parents banned him from doing so, didn’t live far from the next subway stop. The announcers voice brought him back to the weekends where he could be a normal, happy 18 year old for one time slot a week. Where he could laugh and snort and yell and joke and be free for a few hours with his friends, what he’d always dreamed adolescence to be like.

            Not really thinking about anything, he got off at the next station, the familiar homeless man with his wooden flute now sleeping curled up in a duvet, and despite the lack of change in his pocket, he still mustered up 1,000 won, the smiling face of the old man playing on repeat in his mind as he walked up the stairs and out into the chilly night. He hadn’t realised how cold it was until now, but his fingers felt like they were going to stop functioning without some gloves or a heat pack, and he was probably going to need those at some point (the fingers and the gloves).

            Feet moving on instinct more than thought, he turned left and left again, the familiar waving cat in the window of a Chinese restaurant wishing him good luck, and Hyunjin appreciated the sentiment, he needed it. Not remembering the proper etiquette until 100m from Jisung’s house, he unlocked his phone and tapped on the small phone button underneath a particularly puffy-cheeked photo of Jisung. On the fifth ring, he picked up.

            “Hyunjin, bro, what is it? I haven’t seen you in ages dude, but you know it’s like 1am right?” Hyunjin hadn’t realised how late it was and felt bad, until the wind shot a shockwave of shivers along his arms and warmth was more important than manners.    

            “Yeah, I know, I’m really sorry it’s so late, I didn’t even realise, um, this is kind of random, and like you don’t need to let me, but could I sleep at yours tonight? It’s just that…well, it’s a long story.”

            “Um, yeah, sure, you can tell me when you get here, I’ll leave the front door unlocked, just come up to my room and remember where the creaky floor board is, see you soon.”

            “Thank you so much, see you.”

Hyunjin, had never been more grateful more Jisung’s chill parents or for Jisung not questioning him, and for the heat that encompassed him as he shut the door behind him and locked it carefully, slipping off his shoes for the second time that night. He was extra cautious when stepping around the loose floorboard right outside Jisung’s parents’ room, deciding that they deserved a good night’s sleep more than anyone else.

            As he opened the door to Jisung’s room slowly, he realised with a sad thought that this was probably the earliest he’s gone to bed all week, the overflowing levels of homework needing to be completed once he got home every night keeping him up until the early hours of the morning. Jisung’s bed head and familiar squirrel-like face stuck up from under his bed sheets, and the worried look in his eyes made Hyunjin almost breakdown, _again_.

            “Hey Hyunjin, it’s been a while hasn’t it.”

            “Yeah, it has been.” Hyunjin replied wetly with a bit of a sniffle, determined not to cry. He didn’t think he could even if he wanted to, the tear supply running a tad too low.

            “Here, put these on and then hop in. You look like you could use the sleep.”

            Hyunjin caught the sweat pants and hoodie that were thrown his way and proceeded to turn around and change. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for one of them to be getting changed in front of the other, especially due to the clothes-destroying nature of skateboarding.

            He lifted up the sheets and sat under them on the bed, Jisung’s arm coming to wrap around his shoulder and rub up and down his arm. He vaguely remembered Jisung setting an alarm and making sure that Hyunjin’s laptop and phone were charging before drifting off into sleep, the thoughts of Seungmin and school still running laps around his head.

 

After waking up and getting dressed, Hyunjin explained the events of the previous day to Jisung, gaining a little bit of comfort from the sympathetic gaze and sincere words. They finished up their breakfast and Hyunjin thanked Jisung’s parents, both of them making sure to remind him to come over whenever he felt like it. They’d always been more like parents to him than his own, ever since middle school when he helped Jisung get home safely after spraining his ankle playing soccer.

            Hyunjin’s clarinet felt heavy in his hand, a weighted reminder of the consequences he would have to deal with later in the day, including those during and after band rehearsal. He knew he wouldn’t be able to focus with Seungmin sitting next to him for an hour and a half, but he decided to cross that bridge when he came to it.

            After a quick organisation of plans to meet up soon, Hyunjin and Jisung parted ways at the subway station, Jisung to get on a bus and Hyunjin to take the (slightly shorter than usual) subway ride back to school. His mind raced with what he would say to Seungmin, what Seungmin would say to him, what his parents would say, what his teachers would say about his lack of homework completion. He’d taken his phone off of aeroplane mode to call Jisung last night, but hadn’t checked to see if his parents had messaged or tried to call him.

            Opening the messages app, the lack of a little red circle telling him what he already knew, there was his text conversation with his mum, the message not even read, let alone replied to. Some would take it as a blessing, but the fact his parents cared little about his whereabouts or safety filled Hyunjin with a longing for a familial relationship with his parents like the one Jisung, or even Seungmin, had. It had been like that his entire life, and got even worse with the beginning of middle school, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

He didn’t realise how awful he looked until waiting to get off the train and having nowhere to look other than his glassy, transparent reflection. His hair was a nest of flyaways and messy strands, eye bags more purple and prominent than ever, and his face looked red and swollen; a mixture of sleep and multiple bouts of crying. He accepted the stares this time, knowing what he looked like made it much easier to understand passer-bys’ fascination with him, although it really shouldn’t. He was surprised most Korean school children didn’t look like this on a day to day basis.

The sideways glances and discrete (ish) looks continued as he entered the front doors of the school, making a bee line for his classroom. As he sat down and prepared to sleep for the next hour of self-studying, his mind went blank for the first time in over 24 hours of consciousness. It was relaxing, a very welcome change from the overactive thoughts that had calmed from a storm into clear skies.

 

Walking back into the band room after ducking out swiftly when noticing he was going to be all alone with Ms Kim, Hyunjin’s eyes landed straight onto Seungmin’s small frame. Their gazes met and hastily shifted directions, wanting to avoid contact for as long as possible before they had to sit next to each other for an extended period of time that seemed to be getting longer and longer. It’s only been 10 minutes, 5 of which had been spent setting up chairs, but Hyunjin felt like he’d been there for hours.

            The minutes ticked past, and with every click of the clock hand, Hyunjin felt the tension between him and the first clarinet growing thicker and thicker; a fast growing fungus that fed on anxiety and angry band directors. Every time their hands went near each other reaching for a pencil, every time they accidentally made eye contact, or worse, _physical_ contact, Hyunjin saw Seungmin visually cringe away, and he _hated_ himself. Not only had he ruined whatever relationship might have been brewing between them, but he made Seungmin so uncomfortable that he couldn’t look at him. He broke the minimal amount of trust that had been weaving in the space between them, and for that he didn’t think he could forgive himself. Was Hyunjin over reacting? Maye. But was he also sad? Yes, and feelings deserved to be recognised, whether their dumb or not.

            When the rehearsal ended, the two stood up and faced each other, the younger quickly scurrying away to accept his weekly debriefing/insult collecting, and Hyunjin returning to his case to pack away his clarinet. Determined to keep tradition alive and to foster some spark of hope still alive inside of him, Hyunjin placed his packed up case next to Seungmin’s empty one, a stroke of despair striking through him as he realised that the other boy was still being scolded by their paranoid conductor, still convinced that their band wasn’t and would never be good enough.

            They both picked up the two remaining chairs in the room, everyone except them having scampered out as soon as possible. Considering their seniority in the school, Ms Kim could trust them enough to lock the door after they left. Avoiding eye contact was becoming one of Hyunjin’s specialties, he realised, not having looked at Seungmin properly for over an hour and a half (impressive, considering his old habits of ‘look at sheet music, Seungmin, sheet music, Seungmin). As they entered the storage room he decided that enough was enough, and spoke his proper words of, well, now that he thought about it, it had probably been around 9 hours since he uttered more than one word in a row.

            “Hey, Seungmin, look, about yesterday, I’m really sorry, I don’t know why I did it, it was really stupid and I’m so sorry.”

            The clack of a chair was all the warning he got before Seungmin was directly in front of him, hands in his own. Their faces were disturbingly (yet enjoyably) close together, and he could feel the warm puffs of breath from the other brushing against his face.

            “You know, I was going to tell you not to leave, but you kind of just, booked it out my front door without much warning. I mean, I probably would’ve done the same, but usually my crushes don’t like me back.”

            Hyunjin was silent. Seungmin liked him? Really? He blinked his eyes a few times just to check everything was really there, the little movement found cute by the other as the smaller boy let out a little giggle, before brushing Hyunjin’s hair out of his eyes and giving him a little kiss on the nose.

            “Hey, this is super romantic, but my nose is greasy as hell.” He couldn’t resist the little comment that escaped his lips, not regretting a single thing as he saw Seungmin’s eyes crinkle in amusement and his mouth twitch with a possible retort.

            “Maybe I’ll just have to kiss somewhere else then.” His mouth quirked up a little before reaching up to give Hyunjin a little peck on the lips, their mouths a little bit swollen and sore from playing. Seungmin’s hands came to rest on the bottom of Hyunjin’s blazer, fingers curling around the fabric as they leaned their foreheads against each other’s, the taller boy bringing his arms up to rest on the other’s shoulders. They swayed slowly back in forth in the musty little storage room to music that wasn’t playing, and Hyunjin, for the first time in years, hadn’t a worry in the world.


	2. being sweaty is gross and that's the tea sis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyunjin and Seungmin go to the beach after band, and literally nothing happens but it's kinda cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was at the beach today and remembered that i posted this fic with the promise of a chapter 2, so hey here we are. i don't think anyone actually cares that much, but like whatever. enjoy :))

It was so fucking hot, and sweat, spitty reeds plus an overworked Seungmin was not a good mix. He could physically feel a bead of sweat dripping down his neck, moving through strands of hair like spilt maple syrup through carpet. He felt disgusting. Sadly, the band room had been lacking in a functioning AC since the end of winter, a whole season and holiday period having passed and yet the machine’s shutters sat collecting dust, still dysfunctional.  
The air felt thick and his limbs weren’t functioning properly due to the film of sweat causing his fingers to slip from key to key, Ms Kim too heat-frazzled to even pick up on his wrong notes. Due to their exams being over with, motivation was running on an all-time low, a fierce competitor with the 3am dip in caffeine during an all-nighter. As well as this, the lack of a competition date looming over their heads was a perfect excuse to basically give up all together on putting in effort in anything other than…well in Seungmin’s case, he’d really just been doing a lot of sleeping, and not much else. No one ever really understood why school had to extend on past their exams, it wasn’t like they were doing anything anyway.  
As the bead of sweat soaked into the back of his shirt as it slid down between his shoulder blades, the band was finally dismissed and Seungmin felt relief course through his body, instantly hunching over slightly. They packed up slightly slower than usual, but still efficient due to the general consensus the band had reached of, ‘I don’t want to be here, and neither do you.’ Within a few minutes, the chairs and stands were packed away and a stream of students moved out the doorway before they could be singled out and made to stay behind, but Ms Kim looked ready to leave herself, the whole band being aware of the boyfriend she had waiting for her at home due to their excessive stalking and, as a whole, not really having lives outside of the band room (not that they would ever admit this themselves).  
Hyunjin, Seungmin’s boyfriend (his heart jumped a bit at that thought), smiled at him as they left the room, his eye mole lifting up with his eyes, the most endearing thing Seungmin had seen all day. To everyone’s disappointment, the weather outside was just as muggy and humid as the room inside had been, and their peers quickly piled into the subway station down the road, not wanting to stay out of air conditioning for that much longer. ‘It’s so my instrument doesn’t get wrecked!’ They’d say, ‘It’s because you’re a wuss.’ Seungmin thought, having played baseball in long pants underneath the blazing sun in the middle of the day for several years. But then again, he was starting to feel incredibly disgusting standing in air so thick you could drink it.  
“Sorry, this probably wasn’t the best day to go, I just thought, I don’t know actually.” Hyunjin started, his laugh towards the end of the sentence showing he knew Seungmin wouldn’t really care. A few weeks ago they’d planned to go out to the beach after band, mainly because it was so hot and on a weekday there’d be no one there, but also the day after was a pupil free day, the one day they could fall asleep at 3am and not have it matter too much. The thought of an hour on public transport made Seungmin feel a bit sick for a moment, before he remembered the air conditioning pumped throughout the subway system 24/7, and was honestly looking forward to the icy heaven that the trains became in summer. Luckily, the season was fairly short-lived, but that didn’t make any more bearable.  
“It’s honestly fine, the beach will feel cooler anyway, you know, ocean breeze and all that jazz,” Hyunjin let out a small laugh, the school shoes slapping against the path way before halting as they reached the escalator descending into the station, ‘Plus, the water will be freezing by the time we get there, because it’ll be about 6pm anyway.’ A cold atmosphere slowly welcomed them into its hold as they scanned their passes and made their way down to the platform.  
“What a time to be alive.” Hyunjin commented to Seungmin as they passed a woman who looked like she had been alive for far too long selling portable battery powered fans and umbrellas, as well as questionable shaved ice and an odd collection of lottery tickets. The boys’ hands intertwined by nature, no longer avoiding the action due to how unappealing human contact feels when it’s 30 degrees outside. Seungmin was always a bit shyer when it came to any public affection whatsoever, even now a cloud of red rising on his cheeks. The whole situation seemed fairly platonic to any outsider, unless, of course, they looked at them for a few seconds, in which one would notice the way Hyunjin smiled at Seungmin, warm and soft and admiring, as well as the way Seungmin would guide them through the crowd, well aware that Hyunjin wasn’t watching where he was going and didn’t intend to. 

“Why would I look where I’m going when I could look at you instead?”  
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe like, because it’s common fucking sense?”  
Seungmin rarely swore, but felt it necessary after Hyunjin tripped over the grates that sit over the sewers and landed on the pavement, ripping open the knees of his school pants, which Seungmin was sewing up on the floor of his bathroom as Hyunjin patched up his knees while sitting on the toilet. (Yes, Seungmin could sew, and no, ajumma, he wouldn’t sew up her cat-punctured cushions after school for $5).

Around half way through their journey, Seungmin’s head resting on Hyunjin’s chest as the other boy hung onto the railing above them, Seungmin opting to grasp onto Hyunjin’s shirt rather than reach up and hold onto something, the shorter boy pulled out his phone and began playing an English word finding game. Occasionally Hyunjin would point out some of the basic words he recognised from his long forgotten American kindergarten education, sometimes being met with a small noise of surprise and appreciation, but more often with an adoring, “I’ve already got that one.” Every time, Seungmin would give Hyunjin a blinding smile, not really knowing why he felt the need to, but enjoying the feeling of watching Hyunjin scrunch up his nose in frustration.  
Eventually it reached the end of the line and everyone made a bee line for their needed exit, Hyunjin and Seungmin strolling slowly to their bus stop before boarding the bus and resuming their earlier position until reaching the beach. By this point the sun was beginning to set and Hyunjin looked like a golden prince descended from a tall tower and into a metropolitan bus trundling along the road, graciously gripping the plastic thing hanging from the ceiling as to not unbalance the two, as Seungmin instead bunched his hands around the white fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt, permanently focused on not toppling over.  
As the bus neared the shore, a saturated orange haze fell over everyone’s shoulders and Seungmin felt oddly magical himself as he pressed the stop button, despite it being one of the mundanities performed by commuters thousands of times a day. The pair squeezed through black blazered men and women to reach the middle of the bus where they scanned their passes and stepped down onto the pavement, Hyunjin holding out his elbow as if the situation even came close to Seungmin being an Edwardian princess at a ball and Hyunjin being a suitor escorting her to the main hall. However, the younger boy linked their elbows anyway and they walked towards the smell of sea salt and cheap food stalls long gone.  
They took off their shoes and socks, appreciating the feeling of something real beneath their feet. As expected, the (somewhat lessened) humid air and weekday status of the day had discouraged people away from the beach, leaving a long expanse of sand and water all to Hyunjin and Seungmin. Not that they would do anything requiring privacy (at least, not initiated by Seungmin), but it was nice to feel like the only things watching him were the moon and the sun, their dual presence in the sky reminding Seungmin of the scene in Star Wars that always made him cry as a five year old. Don’t even ask.  
He was noticing this becoming a consistent theme with Hyunjin; the boy made him felt more relaxed than he had in years, and it felt amazing. Subconsciously, the both of them had decided that their relationship could be the one non-stressful thing in their lives, and so far it was working out pretty great. Obviously, they’d had little arguments here and there, like the time Seungmin chose a different person to do a group project with in their Chinese class and Hyunjin got into a huff for about a day and a half before Seungmin told him to stop acting like the younger one in the relationship which made Hyunjin smarten up and apologise pretty quickly, mainly because of some weird pride he had surrounding his age. But, 90% of the time it was what Seungmin imagined being on a high felt like. Addicting.  
They walked along the beach, sun slowly setting with the breeze flowing over them, their shirts untucked and rolled up to their elbows, school bags and shoes discarded further back towards the bus stop. Partially for convenience, but also so that Hyunjin couldn’t convince Seungmin to sleep on the beach because he didn’t want to walk back. Obviously, that wouldn’t happen in any alternate universe, but it wasted time and they’d missed a countless amount of buses due to Hyunjin’s unwillingness to move once it was over 25 degrees or under 10. They didn’t go out much and mainly spent time in each other’s bedrooms while listening to a mixture of classical music and Queen, eating a very small selection of snacks that Seungmin always picked out (“I don’t care if it’s the best thing God has ever shat out into this 7 Eleven, I don’t and won’t want to eat it Hyunjin”).  
Hyunjin cut in front of Seungmin, holding both hands in his own and giving the shorter boy a kiss on the nose.  
“You better not be proposing to me.”  
“Hey, give me some credit, our parents don’t even know we’re dating yet, plus you aren’t pregnant so what would even be the point?”  
“Shut up.”  
Seungmin didn’t need to ask twice, soft lips landing onto his own and eyes quickly shutting, appreciating the feeling of Hyunjin’s hands resting underneath his shirt on his back, lifting his own to rest on Hyunjin’s shoulders, fingertips lightly playing with the slightly sweaty hairs on the back of the other boy’s neck. They stayed there for a while, slowly kissing before Seungmin began humming Somebody to Love, the familiar tune propelling them to begin swaying, eventually both singing the words in accented English (if you could even call Hyunjin’s lovestruck mumbling English) before quietly screeching out a painful high note during the chorus, because although it would have been the cherry on top of their day to yell in falsetto at the top of their lungs, an aura of peace lingered in the air, only briefly punctured by the baby pterodactyl screech let out by both boys, shortly dissolving them into a fit of giggles.  
While their families may not be accepting, well, aware of their relationship, and maybe things weren’t always going to be so fantastically dream-like, but one thing Seungmin knew, was that right there, on that beach, in the fading light of the sun, feet getting slightly wet in the rising tide, he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. 

 

(Later on when Seungmin told Hyunjin this, the older boy was offended the he would even be thinking about being somewhere else, a statement that earned him a punch on the arm and a peck on the lips, not noticing the middle aged bus driver smiling at them through the reflection in the windshield.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah that was it lol
> 
> im so sunburnt it's #painful but hey i guess that's what happens when you live under a hole in the ozone layer and go to the beach. i literally re-applied like 4 times why do you do this to us god
> 
> also btw the word game seungmin's playing is word cookies and i once played 60 levels in a day so yeah it's lit + shout out to cornchippo for telling me that the first word was a spelling mistake lol

**Author's Note:**

> an epilogue/second chapter's coming soon, so stay tuned :))
> 
> i think this'll be my last one/two shot for a while, im kinda in the mood for writing a longer fic, dunno if it'll be skz or svt yet but hey we'll fin doubt


End file.
